


A Walk in the Forest

by Blu_e907



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Beetlejuice - Freeform, God I hope I’m doing this right, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Suicide Attempt, TW: Failed Suicide, Uh idk how this stuff works, first work on this site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:29:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22934086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blu_e907/pseuds/Blu_e907
Summary: Bad memories from an old dead tree.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	A Walk in the Forest

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so first off, if you are sensitive to the topics of suicide, please be careful! This fic contains a flashback of a failed suicide attempt! I don’t know how to tag properly on this site yet, so until I figure it out, I’ll be mentioning it here as well as my attempts to mention it in the tags!
> 
> And yes this is based off the Hanging Tree from the Hunger Games, don’t @ me-

The sound of dead leaves under the demon’s feet was enough to make him feel calmer than he was before he’d walked into the forest. He’d made a trip back to his old home, because he’d forgotten something that he ‘needed’ (more like wanted) there, but now he’d already forgotten what it was again. His mother had come home completely wasted, and the sound of porcelain shattering as it hit the wall behind him still seemed to ring around in ears, enough to drive him mad.

The forest was his comfort place. He knew the whole place like the back of his hand, so it was almost guaranteed that his mother wouldn’t be able to find him. The forest is where he went for refuge. Where he went for the comfort of solitude. Nobody around to judge what he says or does besides the animals. And that was a reassurance for Beetlejuice.

_ Are you, are you _

He took a breath. The silence was crushing in a way that felt almost good, his own footsteps and and a few particularly loud birds singing their little songs. And, though he didn’t need to, he breathed. He took long, deep breaths, giving himself a tiny bit more energy as he did so. Breathing was something he didn’t usually need to do if he was moving. But if he stayed still for a little too long, he’d usually pass out. 

_ Coming to the tree _

  
  


He didn’t have any particular destination. He was just walking to walk, out in the forest to be in the forest. And to get away. Get away from pretty much everything. In the forest, it felt like it was his own game. He’d made the rules, but even a game has limitations. So did the born-dead demon. 

  
  


_ Where they strung up a man _

  
  


There weren’t very many clearings in the forest. It was a pretty consistent thicket of trees and a few paths through bushes and brush where they got particularly thick and difficult to pass through without coming out scratched up like you’d been attacked by a group of feral cats. 

  
  


_ They say who murdered three _

  
  


Still, that one fallen log looked far too familiar for this to be any random clearing that Beetlejuice had stumbled upon. Despite a few more dead-wood-attracted fungi, it looks the same. After a while of not seeing this place (whether intended or not), he couldn’t believe he was back here. Of all places. 

  
  


_ Strange things did happen here _

  
  


He walked into the clearing. A beautiful place, really. Birds sang and bugs chirped their own little noises. The sereneness of it all brought a smile to his face. Surprising for all the bad memories this place held. 

  
  


_ No stranger would it be _

  
  


He looked around a second, determining east from west, north from south. After a moment, he turned to east, heading into the forest. The old tree was up ahead. The one he had come to when he felt like there wasn’t anything else left to happen to him that could and would ever be good. 

  
  


_ If we met at midnight _

  
  


He stopped. He looked up at the grand tree. What kind it was, he had no clue. His eyes scanned above for where it appeared a branch had broken off, then scanning the ground beneath it. He became hyperaware of his breathing as he found the broken off limb, the rope that had been secured to it still attached, still going into a neat loop. 

  
  


_ In the hanging tree _

  
  


He remembered the scene vividly, closing his eyes to try and (unsuccessfully) shut out the memory. 

_ Are you, are you _

  
  


**The rope felt like it weighed a hundred pounds in his arms as ‘Lawrence’ dragged his legs behind himself. He knew what he’d come here to do. He knew that he wouldn’t have to deal with the burden of existence much longer. Or he thought he knew.**

  
  


_ Coming to the tree _

  
  


__ **He didn’t think anything mattered anymore. He didn’t have any pets. He didn’t have any friends. He had nobody who loved him. Nothing that would give him the urge to keep on dragging his feet for another day. He would finally feel all the weights lifted off his shoulders as he slid off to a peaceful state of nothingness.**

  
  


_ Where dead man called out _

  
  


**But in those moments of pure desperation, he failed to realize;**

**Breathers were called breathers for a reason.**

  
  


_ For his love to flee _

  
  


**Time slid horribly slow as he sat down at the trunk of a tree to tie that hangman’s knot. Or maybe it was just that he tied it slowly, wondering to himself if this was really it. Wondering if this is the last place he’d ever see.**

**If it was, he wouldn’t have any complaints. The forest was nice.**

  
  


_ Strange things did happen here _

  
  


**He hopped up to throw the untied end of the noose onto one of the branches, then having to jump to grab the end to pull it down so the noose was a good distance from the ground. He tied it tight around the branch. Made it as secure as he could. He stepped back to eye his work. He sighed.**

  
  


_ No stranger would it be _

  
  


**Beetlejuice struggled with pushing a tall enough rock to the tree. He placed it near enough to the noose that he could use it to get his head through the knot, but far enough away so that it wouldn’t be in the way when he stepped off. He placed a hand on his neck.** **_Freedom._ ** **Somehow the word didn’t feel very right. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.**

  
  


_ If we met at midnight _

  
  


**He stepped onto the rock. Maybe a suicide note? No. Nobody cared enough to want an explanation.**

  
  


_ In _

  
  


**He took a breath.**

  
  


_ The _

  
  


**He held it, an attempt to hold back tears that worked for the most part.**

  
  


_ Hanging _

  
  


**He took a final breath. Then stepped off.**

  
  


_ Tree _

  
  


**…what he didn’t expect was the actual pain of the rope digging into his neck and crushing his throat. This caused him to break into a coughing fit, as he choked. He clawed at the rope, an animalistic instinct.**

**He began to feel dizzy.**

**He stopped trying to loosen the grip the noose had around his neck.**

**He let himself fade into unconsciousness.**

**——**

**_Crack!_ **

**_Thump!_ **

**_——_ **

**Beetlejuice opened his eyes. He was on the ground. He took a raspy breath, feeling at his neck. Rope was still there. He struggled to sit up. He put his back up against the rock.**

**Upon closer inspection, he found that the branch had snapped. “God-fucking-damnit!” He screamed out in a hoarse voice, frustration taking him over. But of course, the tree did, in fact, show telltale signs of being… well, dead.**

**And he’d probably stopped thinking at some point. He didn’t need to breathe to live.**

**He loosened the hangman’s knot around his head and slipped it off, tossing it to the side and burying his face in his knees after pulling his legs up to his chest. It wasn’t fair. If breathers could do it, why didn’t he have the option to?**

**He took a breath, trying to hold back tears. It worked. For a little.**

**The thoughts came back, and he tried again to calm himself. But the thoughts were too much. He was going to have to spend the rest of his infinite existence alone.**

**So he sat there, sobbing, for hours. Or at least it felt like hours.**

**Then he got up to head back home.**

  
  


_ Are you, are you _

  
  


Beetlejuice took a breath. He had unconsciously reached to touch the scar around his neck from the noose that had dug into his flesh, making it raw. 

  
  


_ Coming to the tree _

  
  


He let his hand fall to his side. He turned to leave. 

  
  


_ Where I told you to run _

_ So we’d both be free _

  
  


He hated remembering that day. He found it almost hard to believe how much of a low he’d hit to have tried that. Especially compared to where he was now. 

  
  


_ Strange things did happen here _

_ No stranger would it be _

_ If we met at midnight _

_ In the hanging tree _

  
  


He had an actual family now. A family who was nothing like his horrible mother and no-show father. He had Charles and Delia, probably the best parental figures he could ever have. He had Barbara and Adam, who loved him dearly. They’d even started dating him. 

  
  


_ Are you, are you _

_ Coming to the tree _

_ Wear a necklace of ~~rope~~ hope _

_ Side by side with me _

  
  


And most of all, he had Lydia. Basically his little sister. The first one of all of them to show complete acceptance of him into the family. The one who taught him how to paint his nails and make friendship bracelets and all that cool stuff. He’d helped her. And, though she mostly didn’t know it, she’d helped him. 

  
  


_ Strange things did happen here _

  
  


He smiled. The Maitlands were probably worrying about where he was by now. 

  
  


_ No stranger would it be _

  
  


Classic Maitlands. 

  
  


_ If we met _

  
  


__ He grabbed the chalk from his pocket and headed up to a thick tree. 

  
  


_ At midnight _

  
  


He drew the door and knocked. 

He stepped through and the door shut without leaving any evidence. 

  
  


**_In the hanging tree_ **

**Author's Note:**

> 1562 words. Lord. Probably the longest fic I’ve done in one sitting.


End file.
